You and I
by CuriosityID
Summary: Tim comes to Smallville for (encouraged and almost commanded) vacation. Conner tries to give him the chance to be real for a moment and reminds him that it is always "Just Us." Part of the "Built My World Around You" series.


So did you see me there? Flying way up above your head, watch you get off the bus and start a lonely walk down to the Kent Farm? You never said you did. Not even when I flew down next to you and we walked the way home together. But you're kinda of elusive these days, Tim.

What else is new?

It's not rejection, but that idea is written all over you, the way you walk a little slower, and when you think I'm not looking, the sadness that descends on you like an invasion. You fold your arms over your chest in an almost defensive way and you look like you're about to break.

They weren't trying to get rid of you, they weren't saying they didn't need you by sending you to Smallville. It's the exact opposite. They need you so bad that they told you to take a vacation - Bruce told you to take a vacation. You'll kill yourself at the rate you're going. And it's been like that for so long.

Ma has interrogated you like you're a prisoner and brought back the results for her to ponder over: it was a cold and that "degenerated" in your own words, into pneumonia. That's just life without a spleen. You don't say, but I imagine the rest of your family freaking out. Dick would be beside himself.

Even Damian would be, in his own proud way.

Even Jason.

So you come to Smallville for refuge, away from computers and away from crime and you're far enough away from pressure to make the Wayne and Kent families satisfied. We like you too much, Tim.

We've walked the property. We stood adjacent to the prairies and you asked if there are still the prairies dogs popping out of their holes and I explain something silly and call it legendary that they are coming to see if aliens still descend on their land. You laugh. It's a beautiful sound.

We walked down the road and I pointed out the acres of wheat that we've been working on, you pressed a hand on the head of the cow that had a calf just a few months ago. We sat on the fence and watched the sunset, greys and reds and blues making a weird landscape of something like hope rising out of destruction, sun still daring to break into the clouds. That's just what it looks like.

But when the dark falls over both the house and the land, I hear you cry because Dick is on the phone, telling you he was checking in on you and everyone says "hey".

"B says hey, Tim."

"Hey, B." You smile.

A thoughtful pause and then slow and gentle, "He loves you, Timmy."

"...yeah."

Even sweeter, "You know we all love you, lil' bro."

So Dick knows you're not taking this as well as you show. That's just your style anyway.

You rub your lip in between your thumb and index finger, an action I know well because it's what you do when you're trying not to fall apart. You seem so tired.

I'm not supposed to be eavesdropping and certainly not watching you through your bedroom door and yeah, I feel guilty. But then I add it up to I'm just taking care of you. Making sure you're all right.

So I knock on the door once you whisper goodnight to your big brother who's just told you to get some rest, ("Relax, Timmy, okay?") and when you say I can come in, I peer in smiling. You seem only a little confused but then I hand you the red metal flashlight.

"We still do this?" you ask, surprised but you seem excited. There's still a tear track, but the mask is on again.

"Ha! Of course!" I say, tap your arm to follow me. I open the bedroom window (quietly, 'cause Ma's asleep), and then turn back to you, hold out an arm for you to grip. You almost jump off the bed and rush toward me and then...flight.

Summer air blows over the world, Kansas sky big enough for both of us, it belongs to us tonight. You're not heavy at all, and I think you're happy again. I've turned into a Kryptonian-human clone painkiller. It's not just a hold to keep you from dropping to the ground; it's more of a hug and that's okay. We look like animated characters who've learned to finally fall with style. You realize it so you hold out your arms and laugh, "To infinity and beyond!"

And then the sudden thought. So what would happen if...if the pneumonia was too much? And if you got hurt on patrol? And what if you decided all this pain just wasn't worth it all...that you weren't worth it?

That you'd believe that **lie**?

Don't you dare, Tim Drake-Wayne. Don't you dare.

But I let the aching thought die and go to hell when I hear you cry, "Oh look Kon, a prairie dog!"

We soar over the wheat crops, defy the gravity. You don't seem afraid. We come to the windmill, the propellers turning wildly in the cool breeze. I set you down on the wooden beams and we catch our breath, laughing and exhaling the atmosphere. And then you look up, deep blue eyes see the stars, clear out here in the country and you breathe, "One...two...three..."

Might as well start now. The number we reach to count the stars never matter in the end, because we get distracted and one of us will ask a question about life this time, not just how we are on the outside. We'll talk about the dreams we have. We've done it so many times now, we know each other like the backs of our hands.

"I may be Superman someday. It's almost inevitable." Curse and blessing.

"I don't know what I'll be." Truth and lie.

And then you look down to the ground, watch the wind ruffle the prairie and you whisper, "Just... let there always be us."

I look at you and I can see the emotion fighting, screaming to get out of you and you try to hold it in like you always do, but some slips out anyway. I wonder when it will all fall out and it'll be too heavy for you to hold. I want to be there for you when it does happen, because Tim, it will.

Your eyes meet mine.

"Let's just never grow up, okay?"

Let's just always be here, here sitting on the scaffolding of a windmill, feel the sky in between our fingers, and talk about home like it will never change. Let's sit on the fence and talk about Cassie and Ma and Lois and Clark and when are they gonna have a baby and wouldn't that make me the uncle and how would that be? About Dick's police work and how is Jason doing? Damian doing better with trying not to kill people and tell me about the time Bruce laughed because if he laughed it must certainly have been funny.

Let's pretend the chance that we won't see each other again someday has vanished into the summer Kansas sky.

Let's never lose each other, never lose each other in the struggle for freedom, for hope and...justice.

When there could always be _just us_.

"Okay." I reach out and grip your shoulder, watch your eyes fill with tears and bitten lips smile.

I grab your t-shirt and pull you close, feel you shudder against me along with the sound of your heartbeat quickening only for a second. Your hand curls around my own shirt and I steady us both by holding tighter.

To infinity and beyond.


End file.
